


Soulful of Woe- Undertale Shorts

by SorrowSeye



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Angst, Death, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, request
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-12-23 17:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21085283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorrowSeye/pseuds/SorrowSeye
Summary: Request oneshots on the request page!-The human was coming back. This killer, wearing the skin of a person. This murderer, bearing the mask of a friend. They were silhouetted against the intense brightness, with their familiar, distant expression, and their knife glinting hazardously at their side.





	1. Request stuff

Request something you want to see me write!

Rules;  
-Must be Undertale related (duh)  
-No NSFW  
-You can try requesting other ships but ill most likely only write light Soriel if anything (I don't see Sans as a romantic character sorry :,))  
-Children can only be shipped with children, that should be a given??


	2. Iconic bad time time (Sans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The basic Megalovania scene from Sans' point of view, including a very angry (not-spoken-out-loud) monologue. 611 words, unedited.

Every battle was worth it to see the frustrated glares, the lost looks of questioning morality. It didn't matter anyhow; he came back to each fight with renewed energy, while they only returned with strengthening weariness. He could only hope that his attacks were random enough to throw them off guard. A joke isn't funny if you've heard it a million times.

He couldn't remember the skips in time exactly, but he was good at reading the world. There were those jerking feelings when it happened, like being pulled out of deep water; and then there was their expressions. In and out of battle, they were set-in-stone, cold, determined. But there was always a moment just before he gave his little speech that told him all he needed to know. The first jump, they had arrived looking shocked, stunned. The second, they seemed a little more adjusted, regaining their composure, somehow unsatisfied. On three, they had a 'third time's the charm' look that was neither charming nor particularly confident. Four, still holding on to that idea of luck. Five, exasperated, annoyed. Six carried an air of renewed courage, like they had just given themselves a pep-talk. Seven, still staying strong. At some point the numbers started blurring together, but they only strayed farther from redemption. Eventually, their confidence was backed up by knowledge and strategy. A horrifying realization creeped up to him with each do-over; he was becoming predictable.

The artificial sun filtered in a haze through the tall windows, falling onto the floor and reflecting against the arching ceiling with a warm glow. The columns cast contrasting shadows, pillars of dark to combat the light. There was unnerving silence, broken only by the scared cries of birds. The remaining citizens were cowering in the basements of their homes, gathered in community buildings, awaiting the outcome of this mass murder. So many innocent monsters were dead. His brother was dead. Dust coated the air.

He couldn't afford to be lazy anymore. That's what he kept telling himself. Still, despite his continuous revival and magical advantage, even just _knowing_ that they could easily come back and do it all again- that his efforts would most likely amount to nothing- left him discouraged.

Steady tapping echoed off of the marble floors. The human was coming back. This killer, wearing the skin of a person. This murderer, bearing the mask of a friend. They were silhouetted against the intense brightness, with their familiar, distant expression, and their knife glinting hazardously at their side. Their hair fell over their face. They didn't look like a they, but rather an it. An it that pretended to be more than it was, pretended to have a soul, pretended that it wasn't savage and merciless. Pretended it was a child. A human child was what it looked like, yet lacking any empathy or remorse. He had once read that, while monster souls were composed of love, hope, and compassion, human souls needed none of those to exist. And yet, he couldn't believe that any human or monster- much less a child- could be so cruel.

He planted his feet and met the gaze of his opponent.

"That expression you're wearing..." he called, his voice reverberating in the long hallway, "Well, I won't grace it with a description." He grinned, staying alert and ready for its every move.

"You're really kind of a freak, huh?" He asked. It rolled its shoulders and raised its head, preparing itself rather than responding. It had a calculating feeling, a gaze that flicked and twitched obsessively under its heavily sitting eyelids. He laughed sonorously. 

Then their dance began anew.


	3. Science lesson with Sans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Sans are stargazing, Sans explains what the heck stars are (sorry if the information is inaccurate haha). 1040 words, unedited.

The cliff in waterfall was one of the best places to stargaze. The twinkling shapes on the cave roof shone brightest here because it was the most open (and usually least crowded) area, and there were no echo flowers to interrupt the silence. The capital added to the view, providing a story-book castle looming magnificently in the distance, as well as a city showered with expressive magic and friendly monsters.

Sans had been lying there, alone, when Frisk came to join him. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet, but he was never one to turn down company. Anyways, the kid rarely said anything, so they were unlikely to disrupt the serenity.

***

The rocks weren't exactly comfortable, but Frisk thought better than to complain when Sans had generously offered a spot beside him. The view was distracting enough, and it was lucky (though not entirely surprising) that Frisk never got tired of it. Though they loved cooking with Undyne and jamming out with Mettaton, they also cherished the quiet. Still, they were a bit more restless today.

"What are stars made of?" they asked, when they couldn't manage to hold the silence any longer. Sans shifted beside them, and Frisk could easily imagine that uncomfortable smile he wore when he was confused or caught off-guard. He didn't reply at first, and instead scratched his fingers against the back of his head, nails-on-wallpaper sounding from the direction of his skull. Frisk turned to look at him.

"You uh-" he tilted his head to meet their gaze, "You know those aren't real, right? Pretty sure they're like rocks or somethin'." he mumbled the last few words with a wondering squint. Frisk crossed their arms over their chest.

"Oh, like, real stars?" Frisk nodded, "Well..." Sans focused his gaze on the far-up ceiling again, a hand over his grin in a comically thoughtful manner. Frisk followed his line of sight and awaited his answer patiently.

"The stars are all suns with their own solar systems in the galaxy. Some of them have siblings that they have to share the galaxy with too. Lets take our sun as an example: It has a core in the middle, like the underground. The core is super dense, but the high temperature keeps it in a gaseous state. Isn't that weird?" he didn't expect an answer, "Its has radiative and convective zones next, and then the Photosphere. That's the really bright part that you can actually see. Am I boring you yet?" Sans paused and glanced over to Frisk. Frisk shook their head- even though they would never remember any of this sciencey stuff, it was soothing to listen to.

"Right, so, the Chromosphere is super pumped with hydrogen gas, and that makes it red. Like Papyrus' scarf. I don't know why I said that- you're not color blind, are you?" he wondered suddenly. Frisk chuckled dismissively. Sans raised on eyebrow but continued.

"Okay... Well, Solar flares shoot out through that part, so that's pretty cool. Then there's the Corona. The outside part. You can only see it during an eclipse, and Ive never seen it. Then again, I don't think Ive ever even seen the sun- go figure." his explanation got choppy and he started veering the topic here and there.

"Y'know, I just realised the sun is a lot like Mt. Ebott. You can't see the barrier from the outside, and it gets super hot- in Hotland, at least- and its magical. The sun is sorta _magma-cal_. The sun is also sorta like an apple." he realized, and Frisk was intrigued by these observations (as well as the subtle joke). If any of his information was accurate, and he wasn't just playing a prank on them, then the analogy really did work.

"Im hungry." Sans stated. He didn't have a stomach, so this statement mildly confused Frisk. He patted the absence of his stomach for emphasis and fell silent. Frisk was just about to urge him to continue when he spoke up again.

"Stars are big and fiery, so they actually don't twinkle. That's a bit of a bummer though, because the gems down here are super inaccurate but also very _sun-blime_." he said. Frisk agreed, despite hating the awful pun; they had seen the sun, and they couldn't imagine living without it, but on the other hand, imagining a glittery orb in the sky was kind of cool. 

"Red stars are the coldest, believe it or not, and blue ones are the hottest." Sans yawned, "Our sun is an.... an itty bitty baby star. Like you." he winked lazily. Frisk smiled, appreciative of the compliment.

"The biggest star we know is... 1800 times bigger than ours. That's biiiiiiiiig." he raised his hands and spread them apart above him as an example. The flopped back to his six almost as quickly as they were lifted. Frisk stifled a laugh.

"Its not greater than the _sun_ of its parts though. Bigger suns don't last as long because..." he let out an especially extravagant yawn, "Because..."

Frisk fidgeted with their fingers, patiently waiting for Sans to remember his thought. Maybe he had run out of knowledge, and didn't know the answer? He didn't tend to run in general, but he probably didn't know quite as much as Alphys. Frisk looked to him with a prepared, comforting smile and an 'its okay if you don't know', but was surprised to see that he had fallen asleep. Well, they weren't exactly surprised, but had rather hoped Sans would last a little longer. They laughed softly and stood up as quietly as possible.

"Thank you, good night." they said under their breath. Then they set off to have some less mind-straining activities. It would be a lie to say they hadn't enjoyed themselves; the facts really were interesting, and they would leave with a little more knowledge than they had before. 

Still, it was the dark, shimmering walls and calm conversation that would stick with them during their more chaotic moments that night.


	4. Daily reports are inconvenient (Papyrus, Undyne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus gives Undyne his daily report, but he doesn't want to get his new human friend into trouble. 775 words, edited.

Distant rumblings of small waterfalls sounded from somewhere nearby, matched by the sound of dripping water that constantly echoed through the slick caves. Mixed into the harmony was the whispers of Echo flowers, so subtle that you would think the voices were coming from your own mind.

Papyrus looked at his shadow, falling before him in a crisp line due to the intense contrast in lighting between where he was heading and where he had just been. He tried to focus on that, instead of the sharp, ninetry-degree edge that threatened him just to his right. He tried to focus on that, instead of the imposing, armored figure before him.

This figure was engulfed yet more by the darkness, so that the only reason he knew it was there was through the glinting gear and radioactively red hair sprouting through the helmet. This figure was his boss. The captain of the Royal Guard. Undyne... the undying, so far. 

"H-Hi Undyne. I'm here with my daily report... uh... Regarding that human I called you about earlier," he was stumped on how to continue without giving his friend away, "I think, uh... How do I..."

"Where are they? Did you defeat them?" Undyne was unusually stoic, uncharacteristically solemn. She only ever got this way when she thought someone was in danger, which was very heroic, but also very unnecessary because the human posed no threat. 

"Huh? Did I fight them...?" Papyrus opted to answer a question with a question, so that he didn't have to reply truthfully and dissapoint his mentor, "Y-Yes, of course I did! I fought them valiantly!"

"Papyrus. Did you defeat them. Are they locked up. _Do I have a human to bring to the king_." The sentences she spewed out were supposed to be questions, and it confused Papyrus greatly that they did not sound like them. They seemed more like challenges.

"...What? Did I capture them...? W-w-well- no." He hung his head. He had never been very good at lying, and this was one subject he could not avoid for very long, "I tried very hard Undyne, but in the end... I failed." He admitted, not able to meet the armored face. It was no wonder he wasn't a member of the guard yet.

"I didn't think so... Forget it then. I'll do it myself." Undyne growled. Her voice reverberated off of the helmet, sounding goulish and layered. 

"W-what? You're going to take the human's soul yourself..." Papyrus let the words sink in, felt them in his ribs and in his metaphorical heart. If she attacked the human herself, they wouldn't stand a chance. "But Undyne! You don't h-have to destroy them! You see..." Papyrus tried and failed to defend his new friend; it wasn't that he couldnt think of enough reasons- because he could think of plenty- it was just that his words were failing him. When he remembered how close they were to opening the barrier, how dedicated Undyne was, he couldn't find the courage to argue.

"You see..." he made a second attempt. The butterflies took flight in his non-existent stomach.

"Papyrus..." some kind of emotion started seeping through her words, a sort of desperation, and Papyrus wanted to cry, "We're at seven. We're so, so close. That human you met; their ancestors trapped our entire civilization underground. We're stuck down here because of them. They weren't thinking about their descendants when they sealed us here, and now they have to pay for that. Don't make that mistake. Don't make the next generation pay because you can't bring yourself to k- to capture the enemy." It must have been a trick of the light, but Papyrus thought he saw the whole suit of armor shift under a wince near the end of her speech. Papyrus brought his hands up ever-so-slightly so that he could look down on them. He imagined the entire fate of monster-kind resting in those gloved palms. He wrinkled his eyebrows and finally met Undyne's gaze.

"...I understand. I'll help you in any way I can." He vowed. A silence skipped a few times between them, and then Undyne lifted her visor ever so subtly, and she smiled. It made Papyrus feel that much worse for what he was going to do next. He forced a smile in return, feeling awkard and filthy and guilty. Then he turned promptly around and trudged away, shoulders hunched.

As far as Undyne knew, he was going to help her. But not before he made sure the human was safe. They were his friend, and he protected his friends.


	5. Gross Gardener (Flowey, Asgore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey gets the courage to try something new. 812 words, edited.

Flowey sulked in the shadows of the tall room, pushing and twisting his vines through the dirt and around the bed of flowers in the way you might clench and unclench your fists. He wished bitterly for fists. He wanted to punch something until his knuckles bled, until he started to cry and couldn't punch anymore. He wanted to cry, too, as weak as it was. But he couldn't do it.

He felt the warm artificial sun on one of his vines and paused his movements, briefly startled; he hadn't been paying attention to his stressed actions. In truth, it couldn't be called stress; Flowey never really felt anything anymore, unless it was impatience or anger- or on the rare occasion, curiosity.

He pulled his mass quickly under the earth at the sound of humming, drawing himself farther from the throne at the center of the garden. A tall white monster lumbered in, a small tin watering can in his clumsy paws. He had a thick, tangled, golden beard, along with eyebags that dragged under his gaze. He was a pathetic excuse for a king. At least Flowey didn't have to associate himself with Asgore anymore.

"Howdy!" he had hidden in the dirt and popped up through the flowers, now just a few steps away from the king. Asgore dropped the can and it rattled as it hit the dirt, making Flowey cringe. This was always the worst part- but he wouldn't have to endure it for very long, at the least.

"But- But you're-" Asgore sputtered, wide-eyed and fur-raised.

"What's wrong? Have you never seen a talking flower?" Flowey asked innocently, providing a playful wink in the process.

"Oh- erm-" Asgore took a deep breath, smoothing his bristling fuzz and folding his hands in front of himself, "my apologies, I don't think I _have_ met any flower monsters before." He smiled awkwardly. Flowey smiled back; the gesture held no meaning to him, but it seemed to calm most souls for one reason or another.

"It's okay that you don't remember me." Flowey said reassuringly. If anything, it was much better that Asgore wouldn't remember him after this (if there _was_ an 'after this').

"Oh, have we met before?" Asgore asked, stooping down to get a better look at the small flower. Flowey giggled.

"I'm your son!" He explained gleefully. Asgore's expression went blank.

"That's not very funny." He rumbled, yet his voice wasn't at all commanding. Flowey continued grinning, though the task at hand barely held any form of excitement anymore.

The space in between Flowey's petals was contorting, molding into a new shape like white clay. The eyes stretched, the lines of the mouth softened. When it was finished changing itself, it had little unthreatening fangs and a gentle doe regard, and skin with the unnatural texture of dough. 

Asgore fell from his crouch onto his tail, eyes stretched in horror.

"My child...?" he whispered. Flowey laughed, a shrill, unkind laugh. His face unstuck from the mask of the goat child he once was, oozing down the length of his petals and then gathering to reform his usual three-line-expression.

"What has happened to you-?" Asgore pushed himself back up and reached for Flowey hesitantly, his voice wavering and his arms wavering further. Flowey tugged some of his vines out from underneath himself and used them as make-shift hands to steady the king's arms. He coiled said vines around Asgore's teddy-bear wrists, giving a firm squeeze of comfort.

"I paid the price for my unwillingness to act." he said softly. Asgore's breathing hitched momentarily, but he otherwise didn't react. He was staring at Flowey with watering eyes, frozen in place. 

_Those eyes betray his weakness,_ Flowey reminded himself. He tightened his grip, so that his miniscule thorns could start leaving their mark. Asgore grunted uncomfortably, glancing to the pressure but ultimately unable to tear his eyes away from his son for too long. His pity was unwanted. He was disgusting. He was a coward who couldn't manage to save his own kingdom... Not that Flowey had done any better. Still, Asgore was a grown monster- a boss monster with a responsibility- and he didn't have the guts to collect the souls they all needed to escape. Who could be so selfish? Who could pass up the opportunity to become a _god?_

Not Flowey.

He stretched and flexed his form, revealing more and more of it to a king who was too caught up in his grief to be aware. The king opened his mouth with a deep, shaky breath and smile, surprising (and irritating) Flowey.

"I can't believe you're alive." Asgore said, the tears at last rolling down his face along with the blood on his wrists, "My son... I love you so much."

Flowey struck.


	6. Look at all those souls! (Human Souls, Asgore)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The six human souls face their final moments with Asgore, Neutral/Pacifist. 921 words, edited.

Patience:

They wished They had Their ribbon, but They had lost it at the beginning of Their journey. For the past few minutes, They had been braiding Their hair to keep it out of Their face. The king, who's name was Asgore, watched Them patiently.

"Are you ready, then?" he asked as They pulled out the toy knife. They took a deep breath, then another. There was no point going to battle with a jittery stomach. Finally, after Their hands calmed and They could hold the toy knife firmly, They slid their feet into an even battle stance and nodded.

Asgore's paws winded with magic, beautiful and calming despite the circumstances, and he formed a tall red trident. He didn't strike with it, though.

"You may take the first turn." he said solemnly. They waited several seconds before charging and jumping to land a blow on the monster; but he blocked with his own weapon, clinking briefly on the plastic of the toy before pushing Them back. They had figured as much; the king of all monsters wouldn't be an easy fight. They would just have to wait for a better opening.

***  
Bravery:

Their gloves were dusted lightly, though mostly just battered and covered in dirt. Their original tough gloves had been taken off in a town called 'Snowdin', and then had been promptly hidden by the falling snowstorm. They had to substitute Their favorite belonging with a pair of gardening gloves that the king himself had provided for a fair fight.

"Are you-?" The king didn't have time to answer before They ran to him and swung Their fist, landing a clean and effective blow. The king looked surprised, rubbing the side of his face.

"That will leave a bruise," he chuckled, "Very well, if that is the way you wish it to be." And suddenly there was a big, red trident in his hands. It was very cool, and a bit intimidating, but They didn't falter in Their mission.

They needed to get home.

***  
Integrity: 

The new MTT™ ballet shoes had proven to be pretty useful so far, but They swore to Themselves that They wouldn't use them for fighting. They would have just as much ease in this battle if they leaped out of the way of king Asgore's attacks.

"That is a very nice tutu. It will stay untouched in your coffin." he reassured. The comment wasn't very reassuring, but it wouldn't sway Their decision. They truly believed that Asgore was a good monster (and not just because many other monsters had told Them so), even if he had been misled to this threatening behavior. They believed that everyone, especially good monsters, deserved a second chance; and so They didn't attack on their turn.

Asgore sighed and drew a trident from his long cape, prepared to swing. No matter; he would change his mind eventually, They were sure of it.

***  
Perseverance:

The king was a bit hard to see what with Their glasses having been lost somewhere back in waterfall. That was fine though; in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter what someone looked like. All that mattered was what needed to be done. They admired the king's perseverance in this respect. They also hadn't bothered asking his name.

"You've had a long journey. I'm sorry it has to end here." he apologized. He raised his arm, calling forth his magic to form a long red spear, signaling determination. They recalled that, while monsters could summon most types of magic, only humans could harness it in its purest form. They wondered if They could use any of that power now.

Well, either way, They would have to try. There was no point giving up now, not when They had come so far.

***  
Kindness:

Asgore looked tired, and sad. They recalled seeing some discarded pie recipes; perhaps he wanted help with his baking? They thought that something nice like that would cheer him up a bit.

"I have been hearing very great things about you. You will not go unappreciated after your death." Asgore said. There was so much misery behind his words, so much reluctance that They Themselves weren't feeling up to a fight. 

Asgore lifted a trident and held it at a ready position. It would be swift, painless...  
Everyone They had met had been truly unique and wonderful in their own rights, and they were all suffering in an unjust way. If monster-kind needed seven human souls to be free, then They would give Themselves up. One life to save thousands.

***  
Justice:

They stared at the gun in Their hands with hesitation. That gun was Their trusted sidekick, Their brilliant gleaming steed in times of trouble. But was it really fair to use it now? When They had heard the monsters' history, how the humans had trapped their entire civilization underground, They had been enraged.

"I hope you will understand." Asgore sighed from ahead of Them, closer to the barrier. They lifted Their head to face him; They did understand. But then again... They had so much still left to do with Their life. They lifted their gun. Asgore lifted his trident. 

He brought it down, startling Them; but the weapon had struck a rip in space, the part of Their soul that allowed Them to give mercy to those who deserved it. He waited for Them to make Their first move. Asgore would be a formidable opponent.

It was clear; whatever the outcome, that who should die would do so honorably.


	7. Papyrus is not having a good time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is the final boss (one of many interpretations, just wrote this on a whim). 738 words, Unedited.

Papyrus wanted to die. He couldn't, not now, but he wanted to. That selfish thought only added to his shame, and even further than that, he was ashamed that he was ashamed. He was supposed to be ridden with grief, but all he could think was; 

I was supposed to protect them. I was supposed to protect them.

He was supposed to protect everyone, his friends, his family- oh his brother, if only. Even the lowly litterbugs deserved his protection; but if he couldn't even defend the criminals, how was he supposed to defend all those wonderful smiling faces? The answer was that he couldn't. Not that he couldn't, but that he didn't. And he hated that he didn't. He might have even hated himself more than the cause of all this destruction. 

Other than that, he was also shocked. Despite his role in Snowdin, he had, in all honesty, never seen someone die. Half of him thought that everyone would just reappear, that perhaps they were playing an awful prank on him. He wished with all his might that a sick joke was exactly the predicament he was in, by god he did, but he wasn't dumb. He saw the bodies, and he physically _breathed in dust_\- if only briefly- while he was running.

He was running because of a warning that had gone through the town, blaring from speakers and chiming on telephones. The announcer was Alphys, all the way from Hotland. But Hotland was so, so far away; and little did Alphys know, she was much too late to stop the entire ordeal. So now, because Papyrus hadn't been able to stop what had happened, he was running to catch up with the happener. Happenee? The perpetrator. He was going to face his guilt. He was running towards justice.

The columns stood tall. Taller than him, and oh-so-threatening. If he had a stomach, he would throw up. If he wasn't ashamed, he would cry. If he wasn't prepared, he would have to make due, for the human was standing just down the hall. He had been so upset to find out that humans could be so cruel. He had thought, just maybe, that he could change the human's ways, but Sans was the last straw. He drew his line at his brother, because Sans was the best person he knew! Sure he had a flair for telling puns until your ears fell off, and sure he was lazy and didn't pay his bill, but he was one of the kindest, most supportive people he knew. And he was his brother. Papyrus finally felt tears sting at his eyesockets as he stared the human down. No, not here! He couldn't look weak now.

The human paused and turned their head slowly, a look of boredom peaking through the curtain of dust-ruined hair. Papyrus sniffed and rolled his shoulders back to aid in strengthening his posture, then drew a long, sharpened bone out of thin air with a burst of magic. He pointed the bone accusingly.

"H-Human!" he struggled to smooth his jittery voice, "It- It seems that you have made some! Rather horrible decisions!" it turned out that coming up with a speech for someone responsible for genocide was rather difficult. The human's demeanor did not change; they spun carelessly on their heel, positioning their body to face Papyrus head on. Then they raised a gun. Papyrus had only ever seen those in human TV shows or books, but he knew they were supposed to be dangerous. A beam of light from the tall stained windows danced off of the barrel.

"I can assure you, The Great Papyrus usually gives second chances!" the title of 'great' felt bitter and forced in his mouth, "But... Unfortunately, I think you have used up those chances. I'm sorry human." he fell into a gentle, soothing apology that was not entirely thruthless. He _was_ sorry, that it had to end like this. He was not, however, going to regret killing that beast. The human placed their finger tauntingly on the trigger, caressing the murder weapon like a mob boss might caress their precious cat. Then, right before the sudden jerk of firing, Papyrus speared an army of long bones through the floor, hitting their wrist. The weapon clinked and scratched liked chalk as it hit the smooth tiles. 

The human, Papyrus noticed in horror, looked excited.


	8. Hurting animals is basically evil (Alphys, Undyne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU in which Undyne discovers the true lab pre-human. 1325 words, edited.

"T-Thanks for coming over! S-Sorry the place is a bit- a bit of a mess." Alphys lifted the bottom hem of her labcoat gingerly, steeping over a discarded noodle cup. She should have cleaned up, and she only had herself to blame for not doing so.

"It's no problem, nerd!" Undyne grinned, entirely unbothered by anything. She was always so resilient, so... Chill. Alphys wished she could be chill, too, but it came out as awkward and uncomfortable. 

Undyne dropped her duffel bag in front of the two beanbag chairs that Alphys had laid out for the occasion, then fell onto one of them herself. Alphys stopped by the control panel of the giant monitor of the first floor and picked up a tiny remote that was placed on its surface. The monitor was currently on the image of a door that led from the ruins to Snowdin, but with the quick click of a button, was changed to a paused frame of a human boy with a giant sword and spiked hair. Undyne leaned forward, her eyes practically sparkling.

"Oh man, this is going to be SO good!" she exclaimed, looking at Alphys expectantly. Alphys felt her cheeks heat up (which was strange, considering she was cold-blooded), and looked away.

"Y-Yeah." She agreed, smiling at the screen as well as herself, playing the show. She made her way to the beanbags on the opposite end of the room, then lifted her tail carefully and sat down.

***  
Undyne had been hollering excitedly throughout most of the episodes, and though it was breaking Alphys' ear drums, it was also very endearing. Undyne was probably the only other monster who got as excited about anime as she did, and as nervous as it made her, it was always fun. There were a few times when Alphys was reminded that Undyne thought the cartoons were real and that it was Alphys' fault she was misinformed, but other than those two things, fun.

Okay, maybe there was a third thing.

A moaning, pained howl sounded suddenly, drawn out and unnatural. Undyne narrowed her eyes in confusion and tore them from the screen. Alphys froze.

"What the heck is that? Is someone in trouble?" Undyne growled, scanning the lab and trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Alphys stood up, the remote falling from her lap, and made for the door marked 'washroom'. Undyne stared after her.

"I-It's nothing! The toilets sometimes make noises when they... Clog?? I'll f-fix them in a j-jiffy!" Alphys lied lamely. You'd think she would be better at that by now. "W-wait here!" she added for extra measure. Undyne's fins drooped; Alphys hated when they did that, but it couldn't be helped right now.

Alphys felt her heart jump as the elevator practically fell, but she had no time to catch her breath when it finally rattled to a halt. She ran out and skidded down the corner, where the dark laboratory opened up into a room with two halls at each end. She paused as the howl started up again, and her tired gulps of air turned into rapid gasps. How was Endogeny loud enough to be heard from upstairs? More importantly, _why?_

She grabbed a small device from atop the vending machine. She followed the wailing. Took the left hallway. She turned. She ran. She stopped again, taking in her surroundings. There, sprawled over a rickety old hospital bed, was the dog creature. Alphys swallowed hard and rubbed her eyes, forcing herself to approach it. Slowly was probably better.

As she got closer, Alphys noticed something under Endogeny's goop-ridden paws. She adjusted her glasses and leaned in cautiously...

Letters. Her breathing hitched, before- with great effort- she slowed said breathing and walked a little closer. It was unmistakable; Endogeny had somehow gotten to some of the many letters Alphys had discarded, and it was making them upset. Why? Endogeny couldn't read... But they recognized the handwriting. Of course they did. Alphys felt tears gathering. She should have burned the letters or something, but she had left them lying around, and now she had caused yet another problem. She covered her mouth as her knees turned to jelly and she began to cry. Endogeny lifted their head. Oh god.

"N-No! Wait!" Alphys stumbled backwards as they slunk off of the bed towards her. They sprung forwards, gunk flying in every direction. They were heading towards her, too many legs and too wide and too melty and its gaping face was staring right at her and this thing used to be monsters and it had a family and she made it into a beast and it was going to attack her and Alphys raised her device at Endogeny and shot.

Endogeny stopped in its- their- tracks, startled. Their void looked down at a tiny steaming pinprick now scarred onto their body, taking a few steps back. They looked back at Alphys and, somehow, managed to clearly display a betrayed look. Alphys felt sick. Endogeny turned and whipped across the room and into the next hallway, a trail of goo swishing behind it.

"W-wait! I- I didn't- I didn't-!" Alphys reached out a trembling hand, but when she realised the action was pointless, pulled it back inwards and into a self-hug. She slid to the floor, erupting into sobs.

"I d-didn't mean- didn't mean- to- to do it!" she wailed, though she knew nobody was listening, "I'm s-so sorry! I didn't m-mean for- for this to happen! I shouldn't have- have- have l-lied!" her glasses smudged with tears.

"I sh-shouldn't have b-become a royal- a royal- scientist! I lied! I wish- I wish you could g-go home! I don't w-want to do this anymore! I d-don't want this to be my h-home!" She was vaguely aware of footsteps nearby, but didn't care. She hoped it was another amalgamate coming to finish her off, "I want to die! I want to die! I want-"

"Hey, woah, nobody is dying!" Undyne rushed over to Alphys' hunched figure and put her hands on her shoulders. Alphys turned back to panic, pressing herself up even farther against the wall.

"You- you shouldn't b-be here." she croaked, eyes darting around the room behind Undyne.

"Come on, stop, focus on me," Alphys obeyed, "I've seen them, Alphy."

Alphys' world shattered at that. Undyne hated her. She fell to crying again.

"No, hey, its okay," Undyne wrapped Alphys into a hug, "deep breaths, come on."

They sat in near-silence for a while, until Alphys' groaning shoulders turned to soft shudders. Undyne spoke again, but didn't break the embrace.

"I-I don't know what happened, but... Its sciencey stuff. And sciencey stuff is dangerous from the get-go so, like, don't beat yourself up over it." she peered at Alphys' face as best as she could in their awkward crouching hug, "even then, you clearly feel bad about whatever it is, so... So I'm not mad at you. At all. Okay?" she asked. Alphys didn't reply.

"You know why I'm not mad? Because you're a great person- you're amazing, Alphy, and I know that if you ever did something bad, you wouldn't be able to rest until you fixed it. But that's hard all by yourself." Undyne released her grip and watched Alphys gently, hands still resting on her arms, "But now you have me to help you." She said softly. 

Alphys opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and dropped her gaze. Then she took off her glasses, scrubbed her eyes, and lifted it once again. She wasn't smiling, but she had stopped crying.

"You- you don't have to do that." she whispered.

"And you don't have to face this alone. Can I help you?" Undyne asked. Alphys smiled faintly, sad and tired.

"Okay."


	9. Spaghetti metaphor (Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus tries to teach the human to be a better person, inspired by a prompt on argentdandelion's Tumblr. 893 words, edited.

Papyrus felt awful. A dunce was what he was. 

The human had passed by, covered in dust, had spared him and earned his full trust, then had dropped that trust and spit and stomped on it, continuing their murder spree. Papyrus was sprawled out on the couch, sad and useless. He wanted to try that sleep thing everyone raved about- yes, that sounded like a good idea right about now.

There was a knock. Oddly slow, but confident and projected. It was rhythmic.

_Tok. Tok. Tok._

Papyrus turned his head, otherwise un-moving. He stared at the door, wondering if there was a point in opening it. Whoever was on the other side was probably just going to tell him that he'd made a huge mistake, and that everyone had died because he couldn't capture a human.

_Tok Tok Tok,_

The knocking was more impatient. Papyrus groaned and shifted awkwardly off of the couch, making his way to the door with a drooping posture. He opened it.

The knife reflected rays of light from the crystalline snow outside, its deadly point emphasized by the shine. It was covered lightly in dust. The human's clothes had latched onto the monsters' remains more intensely, and they looked muted as a result. They were standing with their arm out, blade raised towards Papyrus. He jumped back.

The knife clinked to the ground, and he jerked with alarm again despite himself. He raised his own arms to summon an attack, but he couldn't help staring a few moments longer- and a few moments longer was all he needed to piece together what had just happened. The human had dropped the knife. Purposefully.

"I don't understand...?" Papyrus drew his arms back in, wanting to hug himself but thinking he might look weak. The human kicked their weapon as a response, and Papyrus stumbled out of the way. He gazed at it in bewilderment, then at the human.

"You- you are not? Going to hurt?" He tripped over his words, something The Great Papyrus was not usually prone to, "Why aren't you killing me?"

The human exposed their soul, but they did not initiate battle. Papyrus rubbed at his eyesockets, trying to wrap his head around the situation. The glow of the soul was too enticing to ignore for too long, though, and he looked back at it; the human was presenting it expectantly.

"You are... Showing me mercy? Compassion?" he asked, his face lighting up just a bit with the possibility of peace, "What about the other monsters?"

The human didn't reply. They stepped into the house and past Papyrus, crossing their arms as if waiting for something. Papyrus scratched his skull in puzzlement.

"Well- I suppose I can prepare some spaghetti for you, if you are looking to rest. Just as long as you don't hurt anyone else!" he smiled nervously, hoping he looked encouraging. The human's expression did not change, but they followed Papyrus into the kitchen.

Papyrus reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a box of uncooked spaghetti, then pulled out a pot and filled it with water. He put it over the stove as the human took their seat. He avoided looking straight at them, instead focusing on the bubbles rising in the water, but glanced over once to find that the human was glaring at his knife rack- which was not reassuring in the slightest.

"Human, would you like a cooking lesson?" he asked hesitantly. The human turned their gaze to Papyrus almost robotically, not looking any more eager than before. They stood up anyways. Papyrus took a single strand of uncooked spaghetti out of the box.

"To be able to cook as well as I, you must first understand your ingredients," he held up the strand, "this spaghetti looks very tough, yes?" he prompted. No response. Papyrus snapped the strand in two.

"You will find that it is, in fact, very brittle without the support of its boiling friend." he said. Papyrus set the strand down and picked up the box, dumping the rest of the spaghetti into the pot. He stirred the mix in silence until it softened.

"Now, with help from the water and the other spaghetti, our strand is very flexible! It may not be as solid as before, but it does not need to be; because it is not alone." he hoped the human was understanding. He withdrew a net, set it over the sink, picked up the pot, and poured it over the top. The water ran through the holes, letting the spaghetti dry, and Papyrus put the food onto a plate when it was finished. He turned back to the human and laid the plate on the table. He took a deep breath, knowing that his metaphor was about to end, and had probably fallen on deaf ears anyhow.

"Another thing I think you will find, is that spaghetti is much more enjoyable when cooked!" he grinned. The human walked over to the plate, looking at it and then Papyrus. Finally, much to Papyrus' delight, the human seemed thoughtful. He reached down to place a comforting hand on their shoulder.

And then they were gone.

***

Papyrus was beyond irritated. As per usual, Sans was napping at his sentry station. Did he have no sense of responsibility? What if a human came through today?


End file.
